


Olly's First Halloween

by FluffySherlollyFan119



Series: Baker Street Confections [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cracky, F/M, Fluffy, Parentlock, This is what happens when you leave your son alone for two minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8440471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffySherlollyFan119/pseuds/FluffySherlollyFan119
Summary: Sherlock and Molly have a son - Olly. It's his first Halloween and he's up to some mischief.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MetricJenn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetricJenn/gifts).



> This is a thank you gift for my beta MetricJenn who betad all three of my other stories in this collection, not to mention the countless others we've worked on together in the past year. 
> 
> As you can imagine I didn't give this to her to beta so any mistakes are on me.

Little Oliver Sherlock John Holmes was born on November 15th, 2015, which meant that he was going to be nearly one year old for his first Halloween. It was therefore no surprise that Molly had pulled out all the stops for this holiday, which according to Sherlock wasn’t even a real holiday and would probably only serve to scare his baby son. But he was on his way home after a tiring case as he had promised Molly because he knew that if he didn’t he would never hear the end of it.

He sighed as the cab pulled up to his home and he saw that the facade had been decorated with carved pumpkins, bats and fake cobwebs. Sherlock unlocked the door and grimaced at the sight greeting him. Mrs Hudson was standing in the hallway, looking up towards the staircase landing, directing Molly who was standing there draping another piece of decor from the banister with Olly strapped securely to her back.

“Da!” He shouted happily when he saw his father.

“Very good, Olly.” Molly encouraged.

“Hello, Olly.” Sherlock greeted him. He frowned at the fake cobwebs around the hall as he climbed the stairs and lifted Olly out of his carrier, walking into the flat. He dropped a kiss on his son’s head as the toddler started babbling incomprehensibly about his day to his father.

When she had finished in the hallway, Molly came into the flat, dusting her hands off on her jean thighs. “Hello, darling. How was your case?” She dropped a kiss on her husband’s cheek and tickled Olly’s nose.

Sherlock flopped into his leather armchair with Olly in his lap. “Eh, a bit mundane, it was a four.” He groaned, rolling his head back dramatically with a loud sigh. Olly mimicked his father and giggled, knowing it made the grown-ups laugh when he mimicked them.

“I’m sorry you had a disappointing case. But now that you’re here would you mind watching our little monster while I run to the shops?” Molly asked when she’d finished laughing.

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded.

“Oh and there’s a pumpkin on the table. I know how much you loved carving the others, could you…?” She let the end of her question trail off silently.

“Leave it with me.” Sherlock reassured her, getting up from his armchair and heading to the kitchen table to start on the pumpkin. He took Olly with him and slid him into his highchair to keep him from running away, as he was wont to do most of the time nowadays. Molly put on her jacket, kissed her two boys goodbye and left .

For the next hour, Sherlock worked on the pumpkin while Olly babbled away and Sherlock tried to make a semblance of conversation with his son. It mostly consisted of him agreeing with anything and everything Olly was ‘saying’ because he could hardly understand anything the boy said other than a handful of words.

“There.” Sherlock said triumphantly, turning the carved pumpkin towards Olly so that his son could survey his work. “What do you think? Shall we call him Jack?” He asked his son.

Olly cheered, waving his arms up and down and smiling, revealing his upper and lower central incisors.

“Can you say Jack?” He asked patiently.

“Jack! Jack!” Olly cheered, loosely pronouncing the same name.

“Very good, Olly. How about you go back to your playpen while Daddy does some more work?” He suggested, picking him up from his highchair and lowering him into the playpen in the living room. He put the pumpkin on the coffee table facing the door, wanting Molly to see it as soon as she walked in.

Sherlock sat in his armchair again, pulling his computer into his lap and started tapping away at the keys while occasionally throwing a glance at his son to make sure that the boy didn’t accidentally kill himself. Sherlock’s stomach growled at one point and he got up to make himself a sandwich and a healthy snack for Olly because the boy wouldn’t leave anyone alone once he saw them eating.

“I’ll be right back, don’t blow anything up.” He winked at his son, who smiled back at him.

“Jack, jack.” Olly pointed to the pumpkin.

“Yes, very good that’s jack.” Sherlock encouraged as he stood and walked into the kitchen. Olly took the opportunity of his absent father and stretched his little chubby hands out towards the pumpkin. The aim, of course, was to grab the smiling vegetable and bring it into the playpen with him. But putting his entire weight on the side of the pen meant that Olly toppled out onto the floor. The little boy looked around to see if his father had noticed before continuing his mission around the room. He crawled over to the coffee table and used it as an anchor to stand up. He tried to grab the pumpkin off the table and lower it to the floor but he just fell onto his bum, pulling the vegetable with him. He giggled happily, having finally gotten Jack to come down and play with him. He rolled around on the floor with his new orange friend, laughing all the while.

The pumpkin rolled over onto its face, revealing a hole at the bottom. Being just as curious as his father, Olly went to investigate without a second thought. He stuck his head in the pumpkin, his shoulders stopping him from going in as much as he would have liked. The boy wiggled around and managed to prop himself up into a sitting position again, the pumpkin still on his head. He recognised different parts of the living room through the carved eyes, nose and mouth of the pumpkin. He laughed and clapped again, somehow proud of what he had achieved.

“What the hell?” Molly shouted, staring at her baby boy sitting, unsupervised, in the middle of the living room with a pumpkin on his head. Olly turned his head towards his mother’s voice and could see her through the holes in the pumpkin face.

“Mumma! Jack, jack.” He squealed proudly.

“Sherlock, you better have a good excuse for this.” Molly called loudly for him to hear her wherever he was. She dropped her bags on the floor and knelt down next to her son, peeking into the holes to see if he was alright. She was satisfied when she saw his beaming smile, albeit and bit more orange than she was used to.

Sherlock came out into the living room with two plates in his hands, one with his sandwich the other with some carrot mash for Olly. “How the hell did that happen? I only left him alone for two minutes while I made these.” He told Molly, rushing over to them and dropping the plates onto the coffee table. “ _And_ I left him in the play pen.” He looked at the toppled pen.

“I know I said I wanted to dress him up like a little pumpkin for Halloween but this is ridiculous.” Molly tried to sound angry but she really did find this funny.

“Mumma! Jack, jack.” Olly caught her attention again.

“Ah, I believe he’s showing you the pumpkin we carved ‘together’.” Sherlock explained. “He did seem enthusiastic about it, it seems he just wanted to play with it.” Sherlock translated.

“He must’ve thought you were giving it to him. It does look good Sherlock. Shall we see if we can get it off him without damaging Jack or Olly?” She suggested, running her fingers between her son’s neck and the edge of the hole.

It took them a good fifteen minutes to get Olly’s head unstuck, by which time John, Mary and Lestrade had come over and taken plenty of photos with the running joke that Olly certainly was Sherlock’s son. Everyone cheered when the pumpkin was finally lifted of the little boy’s head. Olly didn’t mind that the attention was all on him and was about to try sticking his head back into Jack. Molly, about to break into laughter again, took the pumpkin away from her son and set it on the mantle above the fireplace, sticking a candle inside and lighting it.

“Up you get.” Sherlock said as he picked his son up. “You smell like pumpkin. We could probably lick you clean.” He told the little Holmes with all seriousness. “We’re going to need to start keeping pumpkins away from him. He seemed to enjoy that a bit too much.” He told Molly.

“I suppose it’s a good thing I got this then.” She told her son as she rummaged about in one of her shopping bags and pulled out a little plush pumpkin. The face on the toy was similar to the one Sherlock had carved.

“Jack!” Olly declared, pointing at the toy and reaching out for it. Molly handed it to him and pulled out another identical pumpkin out of the bag, only this one was made out of plastic rather than felt and stuffing.

She handed the second one to her husband. “Go clean him up while I finish in here.”


End file.
